


Rainy Day Surprises

by afteriwake



Series: A Little Holmes [10]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-09
Updated: 2012-09-09
Packaged: 2017-11-13 21:08:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/507730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes miserable grey days lead to good things, as Abigail reaches another milestone and Molly surprises him with information he had never expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rainy Day Surprises

**Author's Note:**

> I missed writing for this series. I’m so sorry it took so long to update. Part of this fic was inspired by a challenge issued for [this picture](http://alicexz.tumblr.com/post/29645534274/lexie-very-generously-gave-me-permission-to-color) over on Tumblr, which I think is beautiful art.

“It’s raining,” Sherlock said with a sigh, looking outside the window. “I had hoped the weather forecast would be wrong about that.”

John looked up from the paper he was reading. “That’s why umbrellas were invented, Sherlock.”

“Yes, but there was supposed to be a play date today,” he said. “Abigail seems to enjoy playing with the other children, and I will admit it’s nice to talk to other people about things regarding her.” He looked at his daughter, who he was holding in his arms. She had her head on his shoulder and was facing the window.

It had been a week since the first play date. They had met up earlier in the week, and he got to meet all the parents that Molly’s sister-in-law had intended to invite. There had been a few other additions, parents that Molly knew from St. Bart’s, and all in all it seemed to be a success. All the children had gotten along nicely, and more importantly, so had the adults. Molly had been there as well, and he had watched her interacting with the other parents. Other than a few assumptions that Molly was his wife and not his girlfriend they had both handled the day very well.

“It will be up to us to entertain her today,” John said. “At least until your date. Where are you and Molly going tonight?”

“Dinner at a local restaurant, and she expressed interest in seeing a film as well.”

“So this is your first actual date with her,” John said with a grin. “Took you two long enough.”

Sherlock scowled slightly and moved away from the window. “I suppose it’s just another way I’ve made a hash out of things.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” John said. “You two have been going slowly, that’s all. It was bound to happen that you would have a normal date eventually. I think you might actually be ready now, that’s all.”

Sherlock relaxed slightly. He cared about Molly. And as he had told John earlier, at the start of his relationship with her, he didn’t want to hurt her. They had passed another test a few nights prior, when he had dinner with some of her family, and that was when they made plans for a normal date. He felt surer about things, but there was still so much he could do wrong. He was looking at tonight as if it was another test, and he wanted to make sure he passed.

Abigail lifted her head up as Sherlock looked at her, and she reached over and grabbed a handful of his hair. John must have been watching, because he was up in an instant and coming over to untangle her hand from her father’s head as she pulled. “You know that’s not nice, Abigail,” John said.

“Da…da,’ she said. John stopped what he was doing and then looked at Sherlock.

“Her first word,” John said. “All that work paid off.”

“It wasn’t an actual word,” Sherlock said, reaching up and getting his daughter’s hand out of his hair as John held onto her.

“That’s as close as you’re going to get for a first word,” John said with a smile. “At least it wasn’t something strange.”

He got her hand out of his hair and looked at her. “You really think that’s her first word?” he said, taking his daughter back and looking at her.

“Let’s see if she says it again,” John said. He looked at Abigail and pointed to Sherlock. “Who’s that, Abby?”

“Dada,” she said with a grin.

Sherlock’s face broke into a grin. “I can’t believe it.” He leaned over and kissed her daughter’s forehead. “Mrs. Hudson will be ecstatic.”

“Yes. All our hard work has paid off,” John said. “We’ve both been referring to you as Daddy for the last two months.”

Sherlock looked at John. “I’m surprised you didn’t say Papa or something like that.”

“All little girls are Daddy’s little girl,” John said with a shrug. “Plus we thought it would be easier to say.”

“I can see your reasoning in that. Her first steps and her first word so close together. I’m immensely proud.”

“You’re a good father, Sherlock,” John said with a grin. “She’s incredibly bright, just like you. It must be genetic.”

“Perhaps.” He set Abigail down and she took some steps towards the seat where John had been sitting. She wobbled, but then straightened herself up and made it to the chair. “I sometimes wonder how Irene feels, missing all of this.”

“She probably knows she did the right thing,” John said. “It might not feel the same knowing that and all, but she knows a life on the run is no good life for Abigail.”

“Still,” Sherlock said. “I wonder.”

“Heard from her lately?” John asked, going to the seat and scooping Abigail up before settling her in his lap.

Sherlock shook his head. “Not since Abigail was kidnapped. She’s hidden herself well this time. And if anyone is watching the two of us, they’re not giving her any reasons to come out of hiding to contact me.”

“Maybe that’s for the best,” John said. 

“Possibly.” Sherlock looked at the two of them, then went and picked Abigail up. “Time for lunch, Abigail.” His daughter grinned at him and reached for his hair again, but this time Sherlock kept her out of reach. He settled her into the high chair and went into the kitchen to get her food and a spoon.

“What would you do if she came out of hiding?” John asked, moving over to the table. “Do you honestly think the two of you could parent Abigail together? And what would happen with Molly? You know Irene would be jealous, and I think you’d lose out on something that could be very good for you.”

“I don’t know,” Sherlock admitted. “I have no clue what would happen. I find myself hoping that things stay the same because I like life as it is now, but sometimes I wonder.”

“It’s probably best if you keep those thoughts to yourself,” John said. “Or at least just with me. I don’t think Molly would want to hear about them, not quite yet. Does she know the whole story with you and Irene?”

“No,” he said. “But not even you know that. And there’s not much to the story. We were intimate, we went our separate ways, and then nearly ten months later she gave me our daughter because Mycroft insisted.”

“Well, just keep in mind that one day you probably will need to tell Molly the whole story. Maybe not all the details, but if you plan on being intimate with _her_ she’s probably going to want to know.”

Sherlock stilled. He had hoped to never have to talk about it again, but John probably knew best. “I’ll keep that in mind." He brought the food and spoon over to Abigail and began to feed her. He spent the rest of his day occupying his daughter until it neared five o’clock, and then he began to get ready. Molly showed up promptly at five thirty, and then they left. They decided to see the film first, and while it was not the type of thing he would normally choose to watch he didn’t think it was too bad.

By the time they left the cinema the wind had picked up, and during the walk to the restaurant Molly’s umbrella broke. “It’s been that kind of day,” Molly said with a sigh as the rain poured down on her head. Sherlock moved his umbrella over her and she grinned at him. “Thank you.”

“I take it your day has not gone well?” he asked. They hadn’t talked much on the way to the cinema.

“My new assistant is incompetent. I kind of saw that when we were dealing with the aftermath of the accident last week, but now that I’m officially back it’s even more important. He can’t keep records right, and so not only have I been doing all the autopsies I’ve also been having to make corrections in his records.” She sighed and stepped closer to Sherlock. “And then John told me that Abigail said her first word today and I’m sad I missed it. What was it, anyway?”

“Dada,’ Sherlock said.

Molly smiled at him. “That’s wonderful! It looks like everything went according to plan.”

“You were in on it too?” he asked, a small smile on his face.

She nodded. “Yeah. At least it wasn’t my first word.”

“What was yours?”

“Banana,” she said.

“She detests bananas,” Sherlock said as his smile got wider. “If that had been her first word I would have been surprised.”

“I loved bananas. I still do, actually.” She slipped an arm around his waist to stay under the umbrella better. “She’ll probably like them more when she gets older. Her tastes will change, and the things she likes now may not be the things she likes when she’s older.”

“That’s good to know,” he said. “I’m sorry you had to miss her first word, though. I know how excited you were to see her walk.”

“It’s okay. I hope I’m around for some more firsts.” He looked down at her and saw her blush. “That was too forward of me.”

“On the contrary,” he said. “I hope you’re around for a long while as well.”

She stopped and put her arms around his neck. She leaned up and kissed him, not caring that they were out in public. He tried to keep the umbrella up over them, but after a moment let it drop and instead enveloped her with his coat as he kissed her back. They stayed like that for a moment, rain pouring down on them, and they were both ignoring it. Finally she pulled away, and he got the umbrella back over them. “Kissing in the rain is one of my favorite things,” she said with a grin.

“I’ll have to remember that,” he said with a grin.

“Is there anything you like?” she asked, looking a little shy.

If they ever took things further then he might tell her his tastes but for right now he was pretty sure that wasn’t what she had asked about. He thought for a moment. “I like holding your hand,” he said after a moment. “I also like when you’re close. I like having you close.”

“That’s good to know,” she said, reaching over for his hand. He gripped it tightly and they began to walk again. “You know, we don’t have to go out to eat. I could cook for you. I haven’t done that yet.”

“Are you sure?” he asked.

She nodded. “How late can you stay out tonight?”

“I think as long as I’m home before dawn I’ll be fine,” he said with a grin.

“Okay. Let’s go to the car and we can go back to my place.” He had never been to her place; every time they’d spent time together they were either at his flat or in some other place. They made their way back to her car and got in, and she drove him to her home. It wasn’t that far away from where he lived, he realized. They got out and made their way inside.

She opened the door and he took a good look around. It was a very comfortable place, and definitely a place that fit Molly. They took off their coats and she went to her bathroom to get them towels to dry off. He took the towel she offered and began to dry off. “Thank you,” he said.

“I can make a curry, if you want,” she said. “I have all the ingredients, and it won’t take long.”

“That sounds good,” he replied.

“Come on into the kitchen and make yourself comfortable,” she said. “I have my table nearby. And I can get you something to drink, if you’d like.”

“Water would be fine.”

She grinned and went towards her kitchen. He followed and sat down at a chair at her table. She came over to him a few minutes later with a glass of water, and then she went back into the kitchen to cook. He watched her and they had an easy conversation as she cooked. Soon enough dinner was done and she served it up. He had to admit that her curry was better than John’s, and when he told her so she grinned and blushed. When dinner was done he offered to clean up, and she kept him company as he did the dishes.

“So, what would you like to do now?” she asked as she put away the last plate.

“I’m not sure,” he admitted. “We could talk some more.”

“Let’s sit on the sofa. It’s more comfortable than the chairs at the table.”

“All right,” he said with a nod. They went and sat down, her close to him. He settled an arm around her shoulders and relaxed. “Tonight was very nice,” he said.

“Thank you,” she said, turning to look at him. “It’s kind of nice having a grown-up date. I haven’t had many of those. The last one…I don’t really like to talk about.” She took a sip of her drink, a glass of juice. “It was with Jim.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “He used you to get close to me, and that wasn’t right.”

“It’s all right,” she said. “And it wasn’t even a good date. It was dinner and then he kissed me at the end of the night and it just felt…off. Like it was all an act. So when he called the next day I said I didn’t want to see him anymore.”

He tightened his hold on her shoulders slightly. Moriarty could have done many things in retaliation, and he was glad that he hadn’t. He liked what he had with Molly, and he doubted his life would be the same without her in it. “I’m still sorry.”

“It’s okay, Sherlock,” she said, reaching over to touch his face gently. “He must have gotten what he wanted from me, and that was that.”” She pulled her hand away. “Have you ever actually gone out on a date before?”

He shook his head. “No. This was my first.”

“I’m glad you liked it, then,” she said with a smile. “I just thought there must have been something with Abigail’s mother.”

He shook his head. “Nothing like that. Not a date, though she tried. She kept asking me to have dinner with her.”

He watched her face for a moment. She wanted to ask something, and he could see the urge to ask fighting with the idea of staying quiet. Finally, curiosity won out. “Why did you sleep with her?”

“She offered me something I do not get very often,” he said quietly.

“What, if you don’t mind me asking?”

He paused. “Submission,” he said finally, searching her face for a reaction. All he saw was curiosity. “Despite my brother’s thoughts, I was not a virgin before she entered my life. There are things I like that I do not get very often. She gave that to me, as a way of repaying the debt she felt she owed me for rescuing her from terrorists.”

“Ah,” she said. “That’s…interesting.” He wanted to mentally slap himself. He never should have brought it up. He should have stopped the conversation before it progressed to this point. But then he watched her face as she continued. “I like a few things that are a little strange, too.”

He felt his eyes widen. “Such as?”

She blushed slightly. “I kind of like pain. Not a lot, not so much that I get hurt or I hurt someone else. Just a little bit. And I like blindfolds. I like not knowing what’s going to happen. It makes it more interesting, I think.” He could tell there was a look of shock on his face because she looked away. “You must think it’s strange.”

“On the contrary,” he said, reaching over and turning her face so she was looking at him again. “I don’t find anything unusual about that.”

“Most of the time my relationships never get to that point,” she said. “And I’ve only trusted one boyfriend enough to do any of that. If there isn’t trust you can get hurt. And I don’t want to get hurt.”

“Do you trust me?” he asked quietly.

“Yes,” she said with the barest nod. “I’d trust you not to hurt me, Sherlock.”

He looked at her closely. “I trust you as well, Molly. Perhaps if we get to that point in our relationship, I can show you.”

He could feel a tiny shiver run through her, what seemed to be a shiver of anticipation. “I’d like that,” she said quietly.

“Good,” he murmured, before leaning in and kissing her. She returned the kiss eagerly, shifting slightly to get closer. He ran a hand along her spine, keeping her pressed against him as he deepened the kiss. He never would have thought Molly would be at all inclined to do the things he liked, and it was a pleasant surprise to find out she did. He knew they weren’t at that stage yet, but now he had hope that when they did reach that stage he would not scare her off.

They continued to kiss for a few more moments before she pulled away. “If we aren’t careful I might try something now,” she said as she tried to catch her breath.

He grinned at her. “Even I know we’re not there yet,” he said, continuing to run his hand up and down her back.

“Yeah, but now it’s something I know can happen,” she said. “It’s going to be in my mind now.”

“For me as well,” he said. “I didn’t think I would be lucky in that regard.”

“Maybe we’ll get to that point soon,” she said.

“Perhaps,” he said with a nod. “I just don’t want to ruin anything.”

“I know,” she said with a grin. “But sometimes waiting too long is a mistake too. Don’t worry. I’ll let you know when I’m ready.”

“I would appreciate that,” he said with a nod. 

“How long do you want to stay over?” she asked.

He pulled his hand away and glanced at his watch. It was only quarter till nine. He could spare some more time. “At least another hour. As long as I’m home by eleven I should be fine.”

“I won’t keep you that late,” she said. “I’d like to get back to what we were just doing, if that’s all right,” she added with a grin.

“I think I would like that as well,” he said, giving her a small grin back. She leaned in and kissed him this time, and he returned the kiss eagerly. They continued for a while, and the next thing he knew it was ten thirty and she was untangling herself from him. They both got up and went outside, where the rain had stopped. She drove him back home, and when they said good night there was something between them that he hadn’t felt before, a sense of anticipation. He had not felt this before, and it pleased him.

It took ten minutes, but finally he was back inside his home. John was in the living room and Abigail was in the bassinet. John was watching something on the television and he looked up when Sherlock walked in. “You must have had a nice evening,” he remarked.

Sherlock went to check on his daughter. “I did. It was a rather surprising evening.”

“I wasn’t sure if you were coming home tonight,” he said with a chuckle. “Which is perfectly all right, as long as I know in advance.”

“Not tonight. Perhaps soon, though,” he said as he lifted his daughter out of the bassinet and held her close. “Molly said she would let me know when she’d like to move our relationship forward to that point.”

“That’s good,” he said. “Things will get very interesting then.”

Sherlock smiled slightly as that sense of anticipation came over him again. “Yes, I believe they will.” He looked down at his daughter. “I believe I’ll call it a night now, get some sleep while I can. Thank you for watching Abigail tonight.”

“Not a problem,’ John said with a grin. “Tomorrow night Mary wanted to go see a play with me, so I’m unavailable for babysitting. Did you have plans?”

He shook his head. “Molly has to work late tomorrow evening, so we made plans for Thursday instead.”

“I’ll make sure I’m free Thursday,” John said with a nod. “Good night, Sherlock.”

“Good night,” he said before carrying Abigail into his room. He set her in the crib and then got ready for bed. When he laid down in bed and prepared to go to sleep he found a sense of peace had settled over him and sleep came easily, filled with dreams of what could happen in the future for him, things he hadn’t thought possible before tonight.


End file.
